The wolf man was only temporarily in charge while the true master of this establishment was out and about. He didn't want things to get too out of hand with this whole mob situation, but he didn't want to just let the imperial in either. This was a no win situation he was placed in, but luckily it seemed to diffuse itself once the intruder was out for the count. Well, for the most part. What wasn't "for the most part" was the news coming soon afterwards of a dragon making it's way here as they spoke! He couldn't have the whole place burn down on his watch! That wouldn't do at all. The master was a forgiving man, but allowing such a thing to occur would be of too much to ask. 

His people did food offerings for certain festivities, so was willing to sacrifice some of his stock for that if it would help. Better loose a couple of eggs than the whole basket. However superstition he was, he still had the nagging feeling that this couldn't be enough to ward off the threat. Some dragons were known to burn down entire cities for fun rather than food, so they could be doomed either way. He wouldn't go down without a fight, grabbing a mighty battleaxe hanging from the wall behind him. A strange dressed man with string-less projectile weapons asked him about a method of going up the roof, so he pointed behind him and to his left with a clawed thumb.

"Down the hallway and first door on the left is a ladder. The outside walls themselves are easily climbable at well," he explained roughly. He then spoke up to the rest of the room. "I call to every adventurer brave enough to stand and fight. Slay the dragon and we shall all have as large of a feast as we can muster on the house and many songs sung in our honor! The one who takes the final blow shall get a lifetime supply of ale!"

It was true that the dragon was already heavily wounded, thus possibly negating some of the glory, but the one who knew that was currently burning, and the rest of the people here would likely be more than willing to say that they are the ones who did all of the damage against a fully functional dragon by themselves. Hopefully they would survive to tell of this and would not end the day as food, rather than enjoying food.

A sudden, mighty roar spread out of the trees to the east. It was an aggressive one, sounding as if a predator had found it's prey and was about to deliver a fatal strike against it as part of a war cry. The owner of the noise soon burst into the clearing to alleviate all down what had caused it, first revealing a large, scaly black snout dripping with blood at the teeth. Had it been eating other members of the Martross party that the dead man belonged too? Perhaps it was trying to recover some of it's strength, and that is what took it so long. If it had to take such a pit stop, perhaps that was a good sign and it felt very weak. 

The vile thing was now in full view, reaching over forty feet tall, dwarfing the inn by almost twice the size and three times as long, from snout to the tip of it's tail, as it was tall. It oozed blood, both from it's own wounds at those from other beings splattered over it's dull scales that seemed to absorb light and send few rays back out. It's eyes were a dark red, filled with evil intent as it's lips turned into a snarled, spraying even more blood out of them. It's wings were in particular bad shape, with much of the membranes stabbed or torn out, forcing it to make this trek on it's four spindly legs.

However, despite all of these wounds, most on the scales were superficial and it was still an imposing sight to behold. He figured that it would take their combined effort to win, and taking it head on still might be suicide without a good strategy. Perhaps wear it out and surround him, or...blast it. He was a bartender, not a tactician!